


how to cross oceans

by asofthaven



Series: VDay Lockers 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, Falling In Love, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip, Slow Burn, during time skip, of a sort, spoilers for ch 386
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asofthaven/pseuds/asofthaven
Summary: There's a list in Chikara's handwriting that sits in Yuu's lap, now; on one side, Yuu's list of countries and landmarks, and on the other, an ever-growing list of things to learn and try anddo. At the top, it readsNon-Exhaustive List of Possibilities.
Relationships: Ennoshita Chikara/Nishinoya Yuu
Series: VDay Lockers 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685722
Comments: 28
Kudos: 99
Collections: Valentine's Day Lockers 2020





	how to cross oceans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowdrops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/gifts).



**i. by postcard**

Yuu shoves the postcard into Chikara's hands the moment he bursts into Chikara's bedroom, his greetings to the rest of the Ennoshitas echoing down the hall.

"Italy?" Chikara says, after he's shoved Yuu off his bed. His book slides out of his fingers as he focuses on the glossy picture across the front of the card. _Sicilly_ , it reads. A man stands on one side, struggling against a large fish on his line as the coast stretches out on the other side.

Yuu could start game fishing here; Yuu could do a lot here, in Japan and in Sendai. But to do it _here_ is not the same as doing it anywhere else, _everywhere_ else. Yuu bounces on his heels before throwing himself into Chikara's desk chair.

"It's a good last stop, don'tcha think?" Yuu grins, kicking his foot lightly against Chikara's desk and sending the chair spinning.

Chikara leans back, lifting the card up so its back-lit against the overhead light. "Italy," he repeats, thoughtfully.

"I figure, yanno, six months to build up money doing construction," Yuu continues. He's been saying the same for nearly a year now, his nebulous idea slowly forming steps as their third year came to a close. Yuu calls it a plan; Chikara says a list of destinations is a hope, a wish. He doesn't say that Yuu needs a plan, though; just sits with Yuu and charts the space between each destination with a steady hand.

There's a list in Chikara's handwriting that sits in Yuu's lap, now; on one side, Yuu's list of countries and landmarks, and on the other, an ever-growing list of things to learn and try and _do_. At the top, it reads _Non-Exhaustive List of Possibilities._

Yuu loves it, loves how it sounds when he whispers it to himself; he does it now, while Chikara rolls the word _Italy_ around his mouth and says, "What kind of fish is he catching?"

"Dunno," Yuu says. He'll find out, though; it's already on the list, his writing large and slanting across the page: _catch GIANT fish._ "Big ones."

Chikara laughs, and gets up to add the postcard to a small stack on his bedside table. At the front of the stack is a folded map of Japan. From where he's sitting, Yuu can see a red circle—his handiwork—around the marker for Mount Fuji. Next to the stack is a letter of admission from Tohoku University's School of Medicine, which Yuu knew Chikara would receive long before Chikara did.

Graduation is rising to meet them with an unstoppable inevitability, the time between _then_ and _now_ shortening even more now that they were done with volleyball. Done, forever; Yuu still feels the finality of their last match reverberating through his bones. How easy, really, to leave something you love.

"That's it, then?" Chikara asks, giving Yuu a smile he already misses. "I don't really believe that."

" _Non-exhaustive_ ," Yuu quotes, spinning once again and letting Chikara's room become a blur to his wide-open eyes. It's a good word, _non-exhaustive_. A reminder that the world is something Yuu has only seen through a peephole. Who knows what'll be found once the door is thrown open.

"Right," Chikara says, his voice like a laugh waiting to come out. "You'll just have to start a new list after Italy."

"Four years," Yuu says, because he's been saying that since the beginning, too. It's the same time it would take to get a degree. Four years is an impossibly long time, but then, three years of high school seemed impossibly long until Yuu found himself standing at the end of it. "When I come back to Japan, you'll have to help me start the next adventure!"

Chikara shakes his head faintly, like he doesn't know what to do with Yuu's words. He does, though; Chikara has always known.

"Fine," Chikara says, when Yuu lobs a pen at him in a huff. He laughs, and Yuu laughs at his laughter. Outside the window, the leaves are a bursting, start-of-spring green and the wind, when it filters through the crack of Chikara's window, smells like sunshine.

  
  


**ii. by videochat**

Yuu is struck by a sudden and inexplicable fear as he lands in the Charles de Gaulle Airport, eight months and six days after he officially checked off all his landmarks in Japan.

It's the middle of the day, his plane having landed right on time at just past 1:30pm, and the airport is busy with ordered chaos. Yuu follows the surging crowd towards one of the exits, his heart raging against his rib cage. One hand is clenched tightly around his duffel bag, the other around an over-priced bottle of water. Around him is nothing but rapid, smooth-sounding French and the occasional snatches of English; the signs are incomprehensible aside from the pictures.

Yuu inhales and the breath gets stuck in his throat. Fear has never held itself in such a unique place before. When he manages to exhale, he fishes his phone out of his pocket. He's video-calling Chikara before he remembers about the SD card, and the data, and the time difference—it must be almost 5 am in Japan.

But Chikara still picks up, the screen dark and grainy. "Noya?" he says in a whisper, and Yuu's heart does something complicated in his chest. Chikara has never called him _Noya_ before. "Did you land?"

"Yeah," Yuu says, finding a bench drowned in sunlight and throwing his body into it. "Sorry, I forgot about, yanno. The time."

"Don't worry about it," Chikara says, which is hilarious because Yuu knows perfectly well how much Chikara treasures his sleep. There's a few moments of motion, a door opening and closing, and then light. Chikara sits on a thin looking chair and rubs at his eyes, asks, "Are you okay?"

"Um," Yuu answers, the sunlight burning at his skin. Were it anyone else, he would say yes, because he's always been the one slapping backs and tugging people up. _Guardian deity_ , on or off the court.

But it's Chikara on the other end of the call, Chikara and his solid, unyielding presence. Chikara has been many things with Yuu—annoyed and angry and impressed and surprised—but he's never been disappointed, really, in Yuu. There was nothing to be disappointed in, because Chikara only ever expected Yuu to act like _Yuu._ It was like Chikara had met Yuu, then decided firmly that he could never predict what Yuu would do and therefore couldn't be thrown by his behaviors. 

This is why Yuu says, "I think I'm terrified."

Chikara blinks blearily at him. "Good," he says, simply. Like he'd be worried if Yuu weren't scared half out of his mind, feeling an isolation so strong it was suffocating. "What's that matter, though? It's not like you're coming back yet."

It's not a question. Chikara knows how often Yuu has returned to his list, his _Non-Exhaustive List of Possibilities_ , and how bone-deep Yuu's need to push himself past any of his limits is. He knows that France isn't so much about _France_ as it is about Yuu letting himself be free to pursue every possibility that presents itself to him.

"Right," Yuu says slowly. His heart has always been a rabbit, unlearning its natural instincts. It calms down as he stares at the busy street outside the airport. One day, he thinks, even this fear will be conquered. "I still have to see if I can scale the Eiffel Tower."

"You can't," Chikara says quickly. "We ruled that out already. You're not even going to try that, Nishinoya."

"Oh? But where's the fun in that?" Yuu asks, a smile stretching wide across his face. He has a map in his pocket, and a few French phrases he was sure to mangle saved in his phone. This was the world; he was already well past the peephole.

Chikara snorts, but he's smiling. "Send me a picture from inside whatever Parisian jail you end up in."

Yuu laughs, and closes his eyes in the face of the midday sun. "Well, I never _have_ been arrested."

"Please don't add that to the list." Chikara lets out a yawn, his face scrunching on Yuu's phone screen. He grimaces at something off-screen, and adds, almost accusatory, "My alarm goes off in 15 minutes."

Yuu's smile grows wider, if possible. "Thank you," he says, sincere. How silly, really, for him to question his decision to come here, even for a moment. 

Chikara doesn't say anything for a while, but doesn't seem inclined to end the call. "I'll pick up for you, you know."

Warmth floods through Yuu. He does know this. He's known this almost as long as he's known Chikara. "I know. Have a good day in class, Chikara!"

Chikara's smile is warm even through the phone screen. "Have fun getting arrested, Nishinoya."

Yuu's laughter echoes in his ears as he ends the call. He sits on the bench for a moment longer, letting the sun beat gentle rays over him. Then he tosses his bag over his shoulder and heads to the money exchange counter.

**iii. by photograph**

Yuu's _Non-Exhaustive List of Possibilities_ gets whittled down as the months go by. He rides camels across the dunes of Maspalomas as part of his trip around Spain, and spends two days in sun-burnt agony in his tiny hotel room as a result. He detours to Iceland, to hike along waterfall trails, and circles back to Taiwan, where he works a few weeks at a fishing market, learning how to properly descale a fish and hauling basket after dripping basket across crowded market streets. He nosedives to Peru, and back up to England, then sideways to Seoul. He eats food in flavors he's never imagined, and crashes a bike on the side of a dirt road, and spends a few frantic hours trying to get a new phone when his is stolen.

Yuu graphs every new destination with photos and sends them in a barrage whenever he gets a message on his line account from curious friends. He gets a hefty stack developed from a disposable camera, and sends them all to Chikara, with notes on the back. _Chikara_ , he writes, over and over again, as the train he's in rumbles across the Nordic countryside. His leg bounces with the movement. _Chikara, you wouldn't BELIEVE how huge this was in person. Chikara, send this one to my grandpa, yeah? Chikara, Chikara, Chikara._

He's in Belize when he decides, on a whim, to join a fishing crew off its coast for several months. Joining this particular crew puts him off-schedule, extending his four years to four and a half, but Yuu doesn't mind. He's found himself missing water with a ferocity he doesn't understand, until he stands at the bow of the boat and realizes that every coastline they approach feels like it should be Japan.

They've stopped for an overnight refueling when Yuu realizes he's grown, his old Karasuno volleyball club shirt suddenly too short and tight across the arms.

"You?" Chikara asks, with a little laugh. It's morning in Sendai, and Chikara's voice crackles unevenly over the line. Yuu doesn't have enough signal, even at this busy seaside town, to speak for more than a few stolen minutes. "By how much?"

"Dunno," Yuu answers, sleepy. He lifts an arm overhead and watches as it exposes an expanse of his belly. "Definitely a few centimeters."

"Huh," Chikara says, then adds, "Mine stopped fitting a few months ago, actually."

"Really?" Yuu does the math—he's gotten better at doing math in his head, and makes a mental note to tell Chikara that later—and comes to the conclusion that it has been a full two years and two months since he last saw Chikara in person.

Yuu pulls at the edge of his shirt thoughtfully. "It's kind of sad, isn't it?" He means this to include a lot of things, like how it feels like a door has finally closed on his high school life and how the last thing he remembers of Chikara is when they were both young enough to wear these comfortably.

Chikara's hum fizzes on the line. "Yeah. I don't miss it, though."

Yuu tilts his head back and considers this. "Me neither," he says, with a smile. Then, "Aren't you supposed to be starting an internship soon?"

He hears Chikara's smile in his voice. "This summer, actually. I—" 

The signal cuts out, and Yuu fights against the disappointment crashing through him as he tries and fails to reconnect. It's quiet on the dock, close to when the crewmen are supposed to be boarded on their vessels and sleeping for the day ahead of them. Above him, the stars are impossibly bright and numerous. Nothing really compares to the sight of the sky when you're out at sea, but this is close.

The older crewmen have taken to quizzing Yuu on the stars when there's down time, and Yuu recites them to himself now, his hand tracing constellations. He snaps a picture of the moon, fuzzy and not nearly as impressive on his phone camera. He sends it to Chikara anyways, watching as the image slowly launches itself across the sky, pixel by pixel, to get him.

**iv. by letter**

At the end of the fishing season, they arrive back in Belize, greeted by the ship owner and two secretaries, at the head of two lines. Yuu gets his pay, first, and then asks Andres about the second line.

"Letters. Packages," Andres says. He's one of the few crewmen who speaks English, and Yuu thanks Chikara every day for making sure he knew enough English to be helpful in situations like this. "They collect them for us, during season."

"Oh," Yuu says, already losing interest, until he hears the second secretary say _Nishinoya Yuu_ in a carrying voice. Surprised, Yuu makes his way to her line and stares down at the small stack of letters she briskly hands to him.

He recognizes Chikara's handwriting immediately. He's written both his and Yuu's name in neat _romanji_ , and under that, the _kanji_ Yuu so rarely sees anymore except on his phone.

A lump forms at the base of Yuu's throat. He can't remember the last time he received a letter—he's on the move so often that it's rare for him to have an address for more than a few weeks.

But somehow, Chikara figured out a way to send them just by knowing the name of the company Yuu was working for.

"Chikara," Andres says, reading over Yuu's shoulder. It's startling to hear Chikara's name out of someone else's mouth, even if Andres' pronunciation is a little off. It makes him real in a way that fills Yuu with a sudden and intense longing. "That is girl you always talk to, no?"

Yuu laughs, loud and carrying, at that. Names are funny things; his time in Latin America has shown him that the _a_ sound at the end of the name means that the person is a lady. It's another thing he wouldn't have known to expect until he was here, knee-deep in new experiences.

"No," Yuu says, when his breath is back. He wonders if he'll tell Chikara about this, and decides he will; he tells Chikara everything. "I mean, yes. But Chikara's not a girl."

"Ah, well," Andres says, as if this is a minor oversight. He slaps a hand at Yuu's back before reaching around him to gather his own mail from the smiling secretary. "Still important, no?"

"Yeah," Yuu echoes, twirling the letters in his hands. There's a big feeling in his chest, one that reminds him of the sound waterfalls. Something is rushing through him, crashing hard and fast in an endless, unstoppable cycle. "The most important, maybe."

**v. by song**

Yuu is hauling new rope onto the skipper when he hears it. A song, in Japanese, that reminds him of high school and volleyballs and the long walk home. He stops mid-step, scanning the crowds along the pier until he sees them: a trio of kids with their heads tilted down, staring at a smartphone screen. They're speaking in rapid Portugese, but if Yuu strains, he can hear the Japanese song underneath it, surprisingly sharp from the phone's speaker. It's bright and fast, and a wave of homesickness washes over him so quickly he sways.

It's improbable, for the music to find him here. _Improbable_. It's a good word, the kind that Chikara would use when he was feeling particularly anxious about a match.

 _Improbable_ , Chikara had said once, way back in the first days of his captaincy. This was before the new first years had gelled with the rest of the team, when Chikara would spend a little too long with a furrow between his brows. _But not impossible, I guess._

 _Nothing is_ , Yuu said then. He stands by the statement now, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his skin tanned from so much time under the sun, the scent of seawater deep in his hair. Nothing is.

Once he deposits the rope aboard the skipper, he hurries back onto the pier. The kids are gone but Yuu stands where they were and takes a picture of the view from there: water crowded with ships, blue sky, a mass of land in the distance.

 _missed you_ , he writes, because he does, so sharply it almost hurts. It echoes in his head as he attaches the picture to the text and sends it to Chikara's ever-patient hands.

**vi. by foot**

Yuu returns to Japan one year and two months earlier than his four-and-a-half year plan to cry at Ryuu's wedding.

It's a beautiful wedding, and Yuu feels something bright burst in his chest as Ryuu and Kiyoko dance past him. For the first time, it sinks in that there is a world here, turning without him. Nostalgia makes a home in his shoulders and the turn of his lips as he stands to toast the pair.

He finds Chikara as the night winds down, his tie undone and a jacket folded over the back of his chair. Yuu reaches a hand out, unthinkingly, and is surprised when Chikara catches it, tugging him into the chair as his side.

Chikara looks amazing, even with his obvious tiredness; it seems like just yesterday that Yuu said goodbye to him, but also like lifetimes ago. Three years and four months has made Chikara new to him: his face is sharper, and his chest wider, and his laughter a deep sound that had Yuu turning his head every time it floated over to him from the depths of the crowd.

Yuu wonders if he seems new, too. Enough people have commented on his height and his voice and his look, but he wonders if Chikara thinks so. It seems the most important thing, suddenly.

"How was New York?" Chikara asks, like they were having this conversation just a moment ago and he wanted to pick it up again.

Yuu grins, mostly about the fact that he can speak with Chikara while actually _seeing_ him. His hand is a warm weight in his. "Dirty. Amazing food, though."

And Chikara laughs that new laugh, familiar and alien all at once. Yuu's heart twists itself into knots over it. They talk about New York and about Chikara's classmates; they talk about seeing Kageyama's face on ads in sports stores and about Asahi's name in fashion magazines.

Yuu wants to talk with Chikara forever; with every slice of the world Yuu shares with him, Chikara offers another from Sendai. _Look_ , he seems to say with every story, _this, too, is the world_.

"And your research thing?" Yuu asks, dropping his head onto the table to stare sideways at Chikara. It reminds him suddenly of high school: his head on a desk while Chikara painstakingly explained why his answers to the literature questions were always wrong. The image is faint, but the warmth that spreads through him at the thought is unchanged. "How's that going?"

"I love it," Chikara says, easy as breathing. Like everything should be so simple and sure. He falls into a story from the clinic, a quiet determination thrumming underneath his words; he shines with the certainty of having a goal and intending to achieve it.

Yuu's always known Chikara was something burning, a fixed brightness amongst motion. Chikara has never done anything in halves, and it's all the more apparent now. He's the brightest Yuu's ever seen him. Eye-searing.

Polaris, Yuu thinks, as Chikara's voice lulls him to sleep, right there on the table with their hands still clasped together. The North Star. Guiding, steadfast. Wherever it sits is the direction of home.

**vii. by plane**

Nishinoya has grown used to airports and planes now, is so familiar with leaving one land to enter another that it no longer throws him to hear languages he doesn't understand when he steps off the plane. He lands in Italy with a buzzing rush of completion. His _Non-Exhaustive List of Possibilities_ , worn and faded and marked with everything from hot sauce to sea water, is clutched in his hand as he stares up at the sun. He's more than a year off schedule, now, but that hardly matters. If he's learned anything, it's that things will happen as they're meant to. All a person was to do, really, was keep heading forwards.

And Yuu has been nothing but forward motion since the moment he looked over the city with his grandfather and realized that the world was so much bigger than he could have ever imagined.

He's rented a small house near the coast; previous experience has taught him the importance of settling in a country, even just for a few weeks. He walks its perimeter, and then does the same inside, running calloused hands over hand-sewn cushions and wooden tables and decorative seashells.

He learned to cook ages ago, first in England and then again in Peru, picking up recipes and spices with every new city and town. Cooking isn't something he thought he'd be good at, ever, but it's what he does now, as Sicily falls into a deep blue dusk outside his window.

Yuu grabbed a few ingredients on his way here, a list of essentials he no longer has to think about and is almost always the same wherever he goes. Rice, pasta, tomatoes, eggs, onions, beans, salt—types vary, but Yuu always finds these things in crowded stalls and cool store aisles and panned by street-side vendors.

Yuu dices onions and sets water to boil and thinks about what it takes, for something to be found everywhere. The world is huge, and Yuu has seen it only in the tiniest of slivers: the laughter of dancers in a Seoul street festival; the hands of doctors in Iceland, where he'd gotten a bad case of the flu; a cavern in Portugal with water so clear he could see straight to the bottom of the Earth; capoeira dancers-slash-warriors during a performance in Brazil that had Yuu signing up for a class immediately; a forest so old in Mexico he could feel his ancestors at his back, straightening his spine.

 _Still there is rice_ , they seemed to say to him, whenever a new experience threatens to unmoor him. _And the ocean._

And love, Yuu adds privately, as he dumps a bag of fresh pasta in the most interesting shape he could find into the boiling water. The world is so, so big, and there's been that, too, underneath every hitched ride and stranded conversation.

Italy reminds him of Chikara, but so does everything, in a way. _Nothing is that far, you know_ , Yuu said to him, a hundred years ago, as Chikara frowned at a map spread across his bedroom floor. _Not with planes and stuff. Just zip!_

Yuu was right, in a fundamental sort of way: once you got to where you were going, the trip suddenly didn't seem so far, after all. But he was wrong, too; sometimes he could feel the long distance between him and home with a vastness so large it threatened to swallow him whole. He felt it when he called his grandpa, only to hear his aunt say he'd been hospitalized. He felt it when Ryuu first said he was going to propose to Kiyoko, and Yuu realized he wouldn't be there to support him.

He feels it now, sitting on a painted porch in Sicily with a bowl of pasta in one hand and a beer at his side. He hasn't doubted his decision since that first day in France, but something about Italy gives him pause nonetheless. In a few months, Yuu will bid Italy goodbye and return to Japan. From there, the world spreads out at his feet all over again. His for the taking.

The thing Yuu's learned about freedom is that it's about choices. The universe is dizzy with them, stretching out to futures Yuu can only guess at. Italy was an endpoint, when he was in high school.

It feels like a prologue, now.

There's a new item on Yuu's _Non-Exhaustive List of Possibilities_. He added it shortly after Belize, though he suspects it's really been there since France, or maybe since graduation, or maybe ever since he entered the Karasuno high school gym and saw Ennoshita Chikara standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

Italy is something he wants to cherish. It's something he wants to tell Chikara about, in detail, then show to him, one day.

And when the stars finally come out, spreading out old constellations at new angles, Yuu finds Polaris and renames it Chikara.

**viii. by grasping his outstretched hand**

When Yuu arrives in Japan, five years and one month after enacting his plans, his inhale is so deep and overfull he thinks he might burst into tears.

He's a flurry of motion for the first few days back, and it's with great relief that he finds himself in front of the apartment complex subject to Chikara's text. Chikara buzzes him up, and then Yuu is ushered into a neat apartment with cushy furniture and crowded bookshelves.

Chikara greets him like they last saw each other just yesterday, and their conversation continues in that same way. Easy as breathing. It always has been, around Chikara.

Yuu sits on Chikara's cushy couch, holding a pillow to his chest and watching as Chikara cleans rice for the rice cooker. Yuu stares at Chikara's back, and feels a contentedness spread through his limbs.

 _I'm home_ , Yuu said when he walked into his family home. But it's not until this moment that the words ring true.

"I can help," Yuu says after a moment.

In another life, a hundred years ago, Chikara's _yes_ might have been skeptical. A hundred years ago, Yuu didn't know how to chop vegetables or make sauce from scratch. But then, a hundred years ago, Chikara didn't, either.

Today, Chikara turns his head towards him and doesn't appear to think about it before saying, "Okay."

They work in companionable silence, cutting meat and potatoes and carrots for curry, until Chikara asks, "How long do you think you'll be in Japan for?"

It's a simple question, but Yuu doesn't have an answer for it. "I dunno," he says.

"Well, where do you wanna go next? What's your plan for after this?" The questions are easy and non-judgmental, like Chikara knows Yuu will come up with something. Like he thinks, no matter what, Yuu will be fine whatever he decides.

Yuu smiles faintly. "I have plans, now?"

"Reckless ones," Chikara amends, stirring the curry, "Built on little more than hope."

Yuu leans against the counter, thinking about this. "They always work out, in the end," he says, and Chikara nods at this. _Of course_ , his nod seems to say. _What else would happen, if it's you?_ "But I think I'll take a break from travel, for now."

"You say that now," Chikara says, sparing Nishinoya a humorous glance over his shoulder. "You have another adventure you want to go on, don't you?"

He does. It's the last thing on Yuu's _Non-Exhaustive List of Possibilites_. There are a couple of ways for Yuu to approach this, he thinks, but he decides that being straightforward has always served him well.

"I wanna make you fall in love with me," Yuu says. Easy as breathing.

Chikara looks at him. It's a weighted look, a new one. Yuu wants to learn all the new things about Chikara that five years of calls and texts have never managed to fully get across.

"I'm already in love with you, if that helps," Yuu adds, as the rice cooker beeps.

And then Chikara's smiling, and it's a smile Yuu has seen a hundred times, a thousand; it's the smile Chikara said goodbye with at graduation, and the smile he said hello with over video chat, and the smile he wore, a hundred thousand years ago after Yuu burst into his room and said _Italy_.

Chikara laughs, reaching a hand towards Yuu. It's invitation, it's promise; it's every conversation from the past five years tucked in the creases of his palm. It's a hand Yuu's going to have to relearn the fine details of: Yuu no longer knows Chikara's stance on vinegared sea pineapples, or public transportation, or which coworkers Chikara hates.

But Yuu knows the bone-deep stuff, the fundamental truths of Chikara that made them stick through the past five years.

And he thinks Chikara knows the bone-deep stuff about Yuu, too. He has to, because the next words out of Chikara's mouth are, "I love you, too."

Yuu grins, taking Chikara's hand and letting himself be pulled into a tight hug. It's the vastness of a ship at sea, it's the wonder of the world from high above sea level; it's charting the stars, heading always towards home.

**Author's Note:**

> hello linn!! i was originally writing something completely different, but then ch 386 happened and i switched gears to this. i really hope you like it.
> 
> comments and kudos always appreciated!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [how to cross oceans [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24596227) by [midnightmew-podfics (midnightmew)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightmew/pseuds/midnightmew-podfics)




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